[ The twitch of his lip is agreement. Yeah, that's pretty sweet. He works hand into string, experimental. Takes longer than it ought for someone writes with both hands. ]

Docks, I'll split.

[ Makes the whole thing feel less a bribe: Fish for the eyrie, passing your squalling cousin the toy. A wrist spins, sends the yo-yo unspooling into dirt. Cedric stoops to collect, wiping the dust on a sleeve. It's a short walk to the ferry. ]

We had one of those, uh, cups? Cups with a ball. Used t'fight over it. [ But that's not what Bastien's here for: ] Wasn't in camp, mostly, when Riftwatch came 'round.